A/N: Well, I finally get ONE of these chapters out. I plan on doing dual updates for this one, since it's become almost like a double story. Originally Tiffania's story was supposed to be separate as a spinoff, but considering how intertwined they've become...yeah. Eventually they'll merge again into a singular story which will share the name of the fanfic as a whole, Blessed by the Moon, Baptized in Blood. Eventually I'll work myself back up to my normal chapter size as well, since I have to work out the kinks of being inactive for so long.

And on one final note...I'm so sorry, the innocent cinnamon roll known as Tiffania isn't going to be all that innocent anymore. Also, angry Doll is angry.

The Angel of Mercy

Ch.1: Like a Sweet Red Wine

Tiffania shifted uncomfortably from her slumber. Her back and bottom ached and her feet felt cold.

"Urm..," she stretched as she yawned, odd fabric falling from her shoulders to her lap as she did so.

"Oh? This is?"

She picked up the fabric from her lap, noting the similarity to the shawl the cute doll wore. At the thought of the doll she looked to her right to find the space empty, the grass and flowers matted down in place where the doll once was.

"Odd...," she muttered as she looked around, wondering if the doll had tumbled from it's resting place off of the low wall or into the taller grass nearby.

Finding that she was truly alone, Tiffania clutched the shawl in confusion. With a huff she rose fully from her spot, dusting off her sun dress and crawling off the small ledge she had napped in. The rumbling from before seemed to have ceased and the walkway from before continued much farther than before. Far enough that she couldn't see the end of it as it curved past the raised earth. As she ascended the walkway she noticed that flowers had replaced the headstones and iron wrought fences.

The fog had dissepated as she slowly reached the peak, a bright red moon shined above, yet the twin blue moon was nowhere to be seen. She clutched the shawl tighter as she mulled over that thought, once more losing herself in the ambience of the area and not noticing more iron fencing blocking her path. Though the iron was of finer make and much better taken care of than before. Voices startled her from her reverie.

"And just what possessed you, Good Hunter, to do such a thing!?" A soft woman's voice could barely be recocgnized as being angry.

"A-ah, w-well..., it wasn't as though I CHOSE to do this," a man's voice responded hoarsely.

Tiffania froze in place, partially in shock and partially in raw confusion. The now shawlless doll she had slept next to was standing and talking to a man smartly dressed in fine leathers. The man wore a tricorn hat over long glossy black hair and silver reflective glasses that obscured most of his face.

'Oh, dear me...," the doll noticed Tiffania on the other side of the fence.

The man held a hand up to the doll and nodded towards Tiffania as he walked towards her, revealing a gate to the fence. He pulled it open while giving a gentlemanly bow and motioned her to the other side.

Numbly Tiffania obliged, only now that she had crossed the threshold had she noticed what looked like a small manor, though it was slightly reminiscent of her old orphanage.

"Please, follow me milady," the man walked slowly past her, stopping briefly by the doll, "shall we continue this inside...mother."

The statement stunned her speechless.

'Did...he just call her mother?'

The inside of the manor was as beautiful as the outside. A crackling fire lit the man room with a warm and welcoming glow from its fireplace. The walls were lined with dozens of bookshelves and a couple large desks that looked to be workplaces for some sort of crafting, and a massive oak chest was tucked away in one corner. The only thing that stood out of place in the welcoming atmosphere, was a great glass display case. Inside were dozens of weapons, many wicked and sent shivers down Tiffania's spine as she unconsciously speculated how they'd work.

"Come now, please have a seat, milady," the man had a hand on a chair, having pulled it out for Tiffania.

The 'Doll' had already sat down on the other side of a modest dinner table, looking as close to upset that Tiffania could imagine such a gentle looking thing to be able. Still numb and confused, Tiffania nodded as she took his advice. He disappeared into an adjacent room, leaving Tiffania with a silence and slightly perturbed 'Doll".

"U-um...I think this is yours," Tiffania held out the shawl over the table towards the 'Doll".

"Oh, thank you, it was chilly outside and you looked so peaceful, so I forgot all about it," the 'Doll' seemed to lightly smile as she reached over the table to grab it, only to stop short, "actually, you may keep it, I don't need it."

With that, the 'Doll' returned to her previous position, now with her hands neatly folded on her lap, the small and gentle smile never left her face.

"Well, thank you? I guess," Tiffania returned the smile as she placed the shawl across her own shoulders and clasp the from together.

The 'Doll's' smile widened at the action, which in turn caused Tiffania to smile wider as well. The young half-elf tilted her head slightly as a thought came to her.

"Um, my name's Tiffania, you are...?"

"Oh, fair one, I am simply a Plain Doll," the 'Plain Doll' responded quietly.

"But, I can't just..."

"...call you an object..., just call her Maria," the man returned, finishing Tiffania's sentence, "Oh, don't give me that look, I know you dislike that name, but she's right you know."

The 'Plain Doll'...Maria, had be giving him a venomous glare as soon as the name was uttered.

The man carried with him a dark, opaque, glass bottle and three wine glasses. After placing one before Tiffania and Maria, he placed the final one in front of himself as he stood at the table. He took to slowly filling each glass, starting with Tiffania's.

"I do hope you don't mind wine, milady, we seem to lack much else at the moment," the man removed his tricorn and bowed slightly as if in apology.

"I don't mind it, I just never drank much before. Um, I'm Tiffania by the way."

"Well met. It is a pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately, neither myself nor my companion here remember my true name. So please, just call me the Good Hunter as she had once taken to calling me," the Good Hunter nodded and sipped at his wine.

"So...Good Hunter...if I may, I haven't a clue where I am, or how I am here at all, I'm sure that..."

"You died...," once more the Good Hunter completed her sentence, as though he knew her thoughts, "and you did indeed die, milady, as unfortunate as such a thing is," he shook his head as he bit his lip.

His bluntness was jarring, but seemed to suit him.

"Good Hunter!" Maria raised her voice.

"Oh, shush, she deserves to know this much at least."

Her worries were confirmed, but many things were still unanswered.

"But...where is this?" Tiffania took a sip of her wine.

'Oh, this is good...it's sweet...'

Though it felt cool going down, it somehow felt warm, as contradictory as that was, and though it burned like alcohol it tasted sweet, but was unlike any fruit juice she ever tasted. She found that she had unconsciously taken a couple deep gulps, resulting in an amused look from the Good Hunter and a slightly mortified one from Maria.

"To answer that question, you're simply in a dream."

That answer caused Tiffania to tilt her head again in confusion.

"Yes, a dream I'm afraid you're stuck in for the forseeable future."

Tiffania felt her eyes grow heavy.

'Was it the wine?'

"Hmm, come now, Maria," the Good Hunter ignored Maria's narrowed eyes, "your ill mood is spoiling the evening, won't you drink as well?"

"But I can't..."

"Please humor me at least," the Good Hunter seemed to have a habit of interrupting people.

With a huff, Maria gulped down a good portion of her glass, before her eyes went wide. Her glass tumbled from her hands and shattered on the floor.

"Good...Hunter...what did you do?" Maria felt her body grow heavyas she began to lean her forearms on the table.

A quick glance to Tiffania revealed that she had already succumbed to sleep.

A dark miasma seemed to permiate around the Good Hunter as he stepped to Tiffania's side, pulling out a small syringe, plunging it into Tiffania's shoulder and drawing out a small sample of blood.

"Please, don't think ill of me, mother," the Good Hunter mournfully looked to the Doll.

"What...?"

"For how many years have we spent perpetuating a meaningless hunt? Ever since I took the place of the Moon Presence, you raised me, I retained much of my humanity thanks to that."

The Doll, Maria, looked to him in confusion, still fighting away the encrouching sleep.

"So I broke through the bounderies...to let us escape the mechination of Old Ones and men alike...but only to find our new home in danger of it's own hunt."

The Good Hunter pocketed the syringe within one of the many small satchels at his belt.

"This poor soul just seemed to have drawn us together into a new dream. I haven't the slightest how she gained such insight. But her blood, it is unlike any among men or Old Ones."

The Good Hunter walked to the Doll's side, gently moving aside the hair that had fallen out of her bonnet.

"I cannot yet descend, for fear of causing the very madness I want to prevent. And to prevent the calamity of man's folly from coming to fruition...it simply cannot be done alone. I loathe to involve such innocence, but it is a regretable necessity."

The Doll's weary eyes darted to the slumped over Tiffania, the little messengers already pulling her away into the ether.

"So for this, I ask you mother, please protect and teach her in my place for now."

She felt the palm of his hand press firmly to her forhead.

"Good Hunter, what are you-," her words halted in her throat.

She could feel it, the echoes of a long forgotten life. The memories locked away in blood that flowed into her being.

"I want'd us to live a peaceful life...I wanted you to have the life you had forsaken when you took up the mantle of hunter...dear mother, Maria..."

Her eyes finally flittered shut, the darkness consuming her as she felt the chilly hands of the messengers grab at her.

Keep her safe, keep her sane, fight by her side so that we all may have another chance at life...

Tiffania awoke again, this time upon a cold wooden floor. Shifting slowly to her knees, she surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings.

'A...chapel? Or just a kind of church?'

She noticed a shattered podium with a statue of Brimir behind it, though it's head was cleanly removed fromits neck. In place of the shattered podium was a small lantern being forced into the wooden floor by several little malformed men.

"Oh...they are...kinda cute?"

"Ha, you think so too, hmm?" The voice of a woman surprised her.

Looking the opposite the way of the lantern, she found the Doll Maria sitting on one of the podiums. Her bonette was gone, letting her platinum blonde hair flow messily down past her shoulders. Upon her lap she held a long, curved sword still in its scabbard.

"I swear, once I get back into the dream...oh...I have no clue what I'd do to him!" Maria seemed to ignore Tiffania's confusion.

Maria's eyes seemed, so different from before. Once they seemed gentle and passive, as if nothing truly could bother her, even if hints of emotion shown through. Now though, they were sharp and piercing, with an obvious anger burning behind them.

"Um, where are we now?" Tiffania meekly spoke.

"Not in your dream, not anymore," Maria looked away, towards the doors to the church, "we...are among the living...though for you, it may very well be a nightmare."

It was then that Tiffania noticed it. Light should have flooded the church from the tall windows, but inside it was dark. Outside the windows she could see the billowing of smoke. Then she could smell it, and it caused her to wretch.

"Is...is that...?"

"A horrid memory...the disgusting stench of burning flesh," Maria grimaced.

A piercing howl that was reminiscent of a human scream echo'd about in the night air.

"AH! What? What is that?"

"If you value your...life...pray you won't find out," Maria stood, the sword held to her side with her right hand on its grip, "stay here, for you sake do not leave!"

With that, Maria made her way out the doors of the church. The doors creeked ominously as they were pushed open and Tiffania caught a glimpse of the nightmare on the other side.

A small town in a blaze, the wails of men and women in torment and fear, and the scent of burning fur and flesh.